Hazy
by CharWright5
Summary: To say Kendall is confused would be an understatement. But waking up in his bed wearing only his boxers, killer hangover and hazy images of the night before, are the least of his problems.


Okay, so I was working on that 30 Day Drabble Challenge thing on Tumblr—which I'm rebelling during because there is no way I can write _just_ 100 words, so I'm doing however many I want—and wrote this for Day Five. Only it is _way_ long, like beyond even a long drabble, and seems more of a oneshot anyway. So I took this out of the challenge thing and am having it as a stand alone.

Yes, it's Kames, because they are the mothership of all ships and I just love them together. Rated R for some language and references to underage drinking. Oh, and it's showverse.

* * *

Kendall woke up with a groan, head pounding, stomach churning. Hungover. For sure.

He clutched his head as he lay on his stomach, slightly raising his chest off the bed he didn't remember getting into. Then again, he didn't remember a whole lot of what had happened. Memories of the entire night were a haze.

He remembered his mom telling them that she and Katie needed to head back to Minnesota to help his grandma out for the week after she'd hurt her hip. Gustavo wouldn't let the boys go, stating the dogs needed more lessons as obedience school, and Katie clearly couldn't be left alone in the apartment all day, so the two Knight females had gone back home. Leaving four teenage boys home by themselves.

Which, of course, in James and Carlos' minds meant "party", the twosome once again using their whole "We're teenagers and if we don't party, we die" argument. And once again, Kendall used his whole "it's not a party, it's a social gathering" loophole before concocting a plan that resulted in Bitters being locked in his office and therefore unable to kick the fellas out of their apartment.

And, just like before, it seemed as though half of LA had shown up at their place, along with several kinds of alcohol, which none of the guys had any problem indulging in. Well, except Logan, but that's because he was a lameass. And that's about when things got fuzzy.

Rubbing his face, he tried to recall exactly what he'd gotten up to, only coming up with hazy images of him downing shots then dancing on top of the coffee table with someone, several people crowding around and cheering them out, letting out catcalls he could hear over the thundering bass of whatever music Carlos had put on his party mix. He remembered a rush to the bathroom at one point, his stomach deciding it needed to be emptied at that exact moment, leaving him groaning on the floor, arms wrapped around the toilet bowl. That was pretty much the last thing he could remember even halfway clearly. He figured someone must've helped him up and into bed, tucking him in, taking his clothes off-

Wait a second.

Kendall's eyes widened as he realized he was in nothing but his boxers. And that he wasn't alone in the bed.

Turning his head to the right, he saw the bare back of his best friend, James, a back he'd recognize anywhere, considering the muscle tone and tanned skin covering it. Oh, shit. What the fuck had happened?

A groan sounded out from the other male as he rolled over, hands rubbing his eyes as he now laid on his back. "Quit staring," he spoke, not looking at Kendall, voice roughened from sleep. And god was it a sexy voice. It always was, always managed to cause a reaction inside the blond, make his heart pound and his stomach flip. But hearing it all husky like that was worse, causing his dick to twitch.

"How-?"

"I just know," James interrupted, dropping his hand as he turned his head to look at the younger male. "I mean, I can't exactly blame ya. With a body and face like this, it's hard not to stare."

Kendall rolled his eyes, the action causing his already aching head to throb just a little more. "What the fuck happened last night?" he questioned, rubbing his forehead again, green eyes closed.

"Well, you got completely shit face drunk, danced with me on top of the table—nice moves, by the way, although I'm sure Mr. X wouldn't agree-"

"Why not?"

"I don't think grinding your ass against my dick counts as dancing."

Kendall's eyes shot open, embarrassment causing his face to turn bright red. Shit. This was not good. Definitely not fucking good.

"No complaints from me though. I enjoyed it." James was smirking. Kendall could tell from the tone of his voice, not even needing to see it to know it was there. "Anyway, uh, yeah, you were grinding on me, then ran off to the bathroom to puke. Then me and Logan found you curled up around the toilet, crying so we helped you to your room, but you just got more upset."

The blond furrowed his full brow in confusion, having no idea what the brunet was talking about or what exactly could've happened to get him that upset. He wasn't a crier, not really. The only time he could ever remember actually squirting a few tears was when his dad left. Since then? Nada.

"You seriously don't remember any of this, do you?"

Kendall turned his head and looked at his best friend, sincerity on his face. "No. Not really. The toilet part sounds familiar, but the crying? Not so much."

Hurt washed over the elder boy's face before he quickly wiped it away, years of being the son of the emotionless Brooke Diamond teaching him how to hide how he was feeling. "Right. I should go."

James quickly sat up, revealing that he was in his boxers as well, further fueling Kendall's curiosity as to what had gone down.

Carefully sitting up so he didn't anger his migraine, he reached a hand out, touching the warm skin between James' shoulder blades. The elder boy tensed up, almost seeming like the action hurt. And maybe it did, Kendall figured. Well, clearly it didn't hurt physically, but maybe emotionally?

God, he was so confused and just wanted answers.

"James?" he started cautiously, getting no response. "What's going on?"

"You told me you loved me," was the quiet, barely there response, before the brunet continued at a more normal volume. "You told me that you had feelings for me that went beyond friendship. And I knew I shouldn't have believed you, 'cause you were drunk. But a drunk man's words are a sober man's thoughts, right?" On the last word, he turned his head around, meeting Kendall's eyes.

The blond looked into those hazel orbs, seeing every emotion the brunet was feeling reflected in them. He was unsure, scared, nervous, worried, but most of all, hopeful. James was hoping that Kendall had meant what he said, that it wasn't just some alcohol induced "I love you, man" happy huggy shit, that it was truly a genuine love that went beyond just friendship.

And the only reason for James to be hoping for that would be because he felt the same way about Kendall.

His tongue failed him, unable to say what was in his heart, so he let his lips do the talking. Leaning forward, he cupped James' cheek in his hand and pressed his lips to the other male's, telling everything he couldn't say in that kiss. The brunet didn't even hesitate to kiss back, the action seeming like something they had been doing for years.

They pulled back solely because they needed air, foreheads pressed together, Kendall's hand still cupping James' cheek as the brunet had a hand wrapped around the blond's wrist.

"So," the elder male started. "Is that a yes?"

Kendall let out a small laugh, not caring how bad it hurt his head. "I'm completely sober right now, so believe me when I tell you that I love you, James Diamond."

The smile that formed on the brunet's face redefined the term "dazzling". "I love you, too, Kendall Knight."

Their lips pressed together once more, the two slowly laying down and cuddling on the bed, Kendall's head on James' chest, arm draped over his torso, as James held him close. His head was still killing him, his stomach still off, and he wanted nothing more than to just sleep for the next week, but it was all worth it to know the male holding him close loved him the same way he did.


End file.
